My So Called Journey
by tears fall from blinded eyes
Summary: I suck at summarys okay. i'll give it a shot. umm. a chick who doesn't like pokemon is tricked into being a pokemon trainer. follows sapphire storyline because i dont know anything about emerald. yup. first fic... R&R, man. rated T mostly for language.
1. THIS IS HOW IT STARTS

My first fan fic everr. Enjoy it... hopefully.

**DISCLAIMER:** i **DO NOT** fucking own pokemon k. otherwise i'd be soaking it up in a pile of money, not being lame & writing this. shpanks.

**CLAIMER:** i **DO** own my characters & the personalitites & stuff. eyah.

THIS FOLLOWS THE SAPHIRRE VERSION STORYLINE. I've never ever played emerald... if there is such thing... so deal k. okay.

now that we have that clear... hopefully... READ ON! & rate, flame, whatever.

**M**y father is a low class weenis.

No really. He is.

I mean, hell. The man doesn't even call or send me flowers on my birthday. All the chicks and dudes I know receive some time of card or something on their day… I mean after all I had been through… I don't think living in a stomach for nine months is suitable living, si?

No. It isn't. Don't even fucking tell me I couldn't remember it. I DID so live for nine months in a hollow sack covered in goop and I have proof so it counts nananana.

I mean I don't even fucking know what he looks like. Except for pictures and on TV sometimes, I don't hardly have a chance to see him in person. I'm guessing in person I look kind of like him, though. Dark hair, dark eyes, yadda yadda, except his eyes are more of a chestnut and mine are a silvery black, and his hair is short and has a brown tint to it while mine is quite long… down to my bum that is… yeah I like it that way so there, and completely black. It rules.

Anyway. That's not the point.

He's just a big-fat-stupid-head with no life.

Oh and dig this: the man's a GYM LEADER.

HAH. Gym leader… MY ASS. That, kids, PROVES he's a power hungry low life dipshit who only cares about being Mr. big shot, not Mr. father. He's supposively this macho "OMMYGAWD IM SO AMAZING I CAN TELL A POKEMON TO BITE THIS DUDES ASS WOO LOOK AT ME" type thing.

Seriously though, he makes his living by controlling POKEMON?

I'm totally not the teeny bopper chick that follows trends and shit but… POKEMON? I mean, dude. That was so 50 years ago. This may sound… okay is going to sound super gay… but my mommy has always encouraged me NOT to train pokemon. She told me that it is a rough game that always ends in disappointment. My aunt Willow told me the same thing, and very kindly pointed out that pokemon are abused and stuff by their trainers. She's not bullshitting either, cuz I see it on TV and stuff, ever heard of poke match 500? Oh yeah, definitely.

Besides I couldn't train pokemon for beans… the starting age IS at ten. I'm sixteen. Like, so there. Bite me muahaha.

I solemnly swear cross my finger hope to die stick a needle in my eye blah blah you know the drill that I would never be one of those freaks that goes along with pokemon.

I still can't believe how wrong I was, though.

"**D**ENVER WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING! WAKE UP."

"Mmehuiwhi…" Is smashed in the face with a bass guitar case "DAMNIT JOE THAT FUCKING HURT! Fine I'm waking… waking…"

When I gingerly lifted the velvety red blanket off my now extreme throbbing head a.k.a totally stupid-head Joe's fault, the blinding summer sunshine menacingly poured in like the clear river water from a dam after a long drought period.

Actually. It may sound beauteous or something, but after being under a nice, warrior against the blazing sun blanket for quite a few hours, I have to say it was no welcome awakening. I had to shield my eyes PRONTO because it was like, you know when someone has their picture taken and no matter what you look at all you see is this rainbow dot everywhere that is SOOOOO annoying?

Yeah. Like that. See I had to shield my eyes so I could see and not be blind because I don't think that would be very awesome to be blind.

Totally un cool, man.

"ACK. MY EYES! Joe, hand me my sunglasses, will ya?" I heard an annoyed sigh and I cautiously raised one hand off my face. It was then I decided it was safe just to squint with one eye open. The car came to an abrupt halt and a very tan, muscular looking man (who probably hasn't had a freaking bath in 947,652 years, I might add) with a clean-shaven chin, a long nose, chiseled features and no hair on his sweaty ass head (yet it looked kind of handsome on the fella… kind of) turned and gave me a face.

Oh no he didn't just make a face at Denver Marie Carlson.

"DAMNIT JOE GIVE ME MY SUNGLASSES OR I'LL SUE!" I narrowed my eyes and gritted my teeth harshly. He chortled mockingly, 'showing off' his big and straight yet totally yellow teeth and indolently tossed my sunglasses at me, hitting me smack dab in the nose.

"JOE WTF. FIRST YOU HIT ME IN THE FACE WITH MY BASS GUITAR FOR NO REASON AND NOW MY SUNGLASSES? THESE DIDN'T COST FIFTY CENTS LIKE YOUR TOOTH PASTE YOU KNOW." I growled, chucking some half used crest into the row behind me. He grunted and turned around. Cars blared their horns and said beautiful four letter words as Joe took his time to notice the light had turned green in -.25694071 seconds.

I continued to nag him. "Speaking of teeth, you better brush them before the maggots in your dump go 'YAY. A NEW HOME. PARTY TIME MAN.' Grr." I sank back in my seat, and slid my 'wife who has an abusive husband so lets wear big sunglasses to cover up the black eye' sunshades on and crossed my arms, totally mellowin. He snickered.

"Denver, what the hell is that supposed to mean?" I coughed and made a lemon face. He didn't turn around to see though. "I hit you in the face because we're almost at your new house. Plus you were snoring like mad and I fucking loathe that."

Um. I don't snore, I pinky swear.

I just acted like he never said that. With a shrug he reached his long arm behind his seat and squeezed my kneecap. "Hey, pretend you're happy for your mom. She's been through a lot and I think you should stop being so selfish and try to consider her feelings for once, okay?" I sneered. "Okay Mister Wise Ass, I'll be sure to clean my room while I'm at it too." Joe frowned at me through the rear-view mirror with concerning eyes. "NOT THE FACE NOT THE FACE…" I wheezed. He narrowed his eyebrows and even looked me down.

Damn you Joe, you make having my way difficult.

"FINE. It's not like I've had a life of happy sunshine, rainbows, and little fuzzy animals either, J-Man."

He released his tight grip on my leg and mumbled, "hold on" as we went over a rocky hill. After five minutes of what I'm so going to now call "car moshing" we came to a dirt road and then to a nice, two story house with a little garden and flowers surrounding the outside. It was built of wood and had a spacious balcony on the second story where I saw my aunt waving a rag. Joe honked.

"Is Cassandra coming or what?" He rolled down the window and barked in a non-delightful way. My aunt stopped waving the rag and scowled disapprovingly. Here's the catch, Joe no like Willow, Willow no like Joe. Joe + Willow world War III okay? Alrighty then.

"Yes, yes of course…" she straightened her purple flowing dress and fluffed her perfectly perfecto curly brown hair while adding quite loudly "I still didn't see why she couldn't have come with US to the new home…" and without glancing back, disappeared into the house. Joe unbuckled his seat belt and rubbed his nose.

"You might want to gather your things together, Dee." I nodded in agreement and bundled up my blanket, I-pod, bass guitar and a few other things I had brought that hadn't already come with the movers. Joe helped me with them as I plopped out of the van. We brought it up to the front porch, dropped it next to the entrance door and slouched on a swingy bench that happened to be to the right.

"SWINGY BENCHES ARE RAD. This house may not be too bad after all!" I tried to say cheerfully, but instead choked it out. With out warning, I threw myself on Joe and began to weep like it was raining pigs. Even though it never rains pigs… hum.

"I'M GOING TO MISS YOU AND EVERYONE ELSE DAMNIT. TELL KEVIN I LOVE HIM AND MISS HIM FOREVER HE'S THE GREATEST. TELL TASHA THAT TOO. TELL…" "Whoa hold the water works, Dee." He pushed me off him and looked at me like I just brutally murdered his dad right in front of his very self or something. Deep I know. "I'll come and visit you I promise…" I almost laughed. J-Man? Promise? Heh-heh. Nice one.

Just then the door busted open and a short, slender, sheepish lady with long honey blonde hair and hazel eyes stepped out… a.k.a. my mother.

Obviously I have to look like my dad. Unless I was adopted or something. Yeesh.

"Hello Joseph. Denver…" She picked up my things and struggled into the house with them. Willow bombarded out practically screaming at Joe to be useful. Instead of listening to her he rolled his eyes, gave me a tight squeeze and whispered "Bye Denver. Remember what I told you." I blinked "Hold the water works? I'm not even crying…" Willow shook her head, made a dramatic "UGH that man!" and stormed back indoors. Joe ignored her and held my wrists. "No, about your mother. She's been through some shit, and shit doesn't blow over easily. Why else do you think you guys moved?" I sighed and trailed my gaze to the floor. My lenghtly hair was tangled and flopped un-attractively in the wind. I pouted. What the fuck was all the hype about long hair being amazing and gorgeous and flowing sexily when there's a breeze? That was SUCH a fucking lie. Psh, media whores.

I didn't say anything but gave him a look that told him okay… and meant it. I hugged him again, this time less forcefully. "I really am going to miss you, man. You guys were my compadres and sometimes I guess I was too stubborn and proud to admit it. When you find time I want you to drop by, even if it is along drive. I have issues making buds and I don't want us to lose touch." He gave a half smile. "I know, haha it's okay." With that, he left and within two seconds his trashy RV had completely vanished from the thicket of pine trees that shaded my new home.

"That was goodbye huh." I thought aloud, and then stumbled into the house. The movers had already left, and everything was in place. It was one humungo room that had a living room with a big ass TV, and a beige wooden bookshelf. There was a wicked metallic silver-ish looking surround sound stereo with a matching fish tank to the left. To the right was a kitchen with a stone arch and a bar with a kitchen TV. The refrigerator was made out of glass so I could see inside… sweet. There were floor to ceiling windows that were sliding doors into the back yard, which had a little Mexican tile patio, some well-mowed, almost frighteningly green grass, and a massive ass lake. Whoa, awesome.

"I'm diggin' the pad, ma. Niice." I clicked my teeth in approval. Aunt Willow was dusting out back and mom had just come down the stairs from placing my things in what I guess would be my new room. Normally I wouldn't let her go within 260 trillion feet of my babies, but I was feeling overly generous today. See Joe. I'm a totally amazing daughter. I know. I know. She let out a gasp of air and collapsed on the couch with a look of serenity on her face. I grinned slightly and started to go up the steps.

"Guess I'll just go to my room the-" "WAIT, Denver. Please?" I spun around. Mom looked flushed. Man she really needed to grab a vodka and chill out. "I want you to explore the town, Littleroot, a little. It's only a few blocks down from our entrance gate. Just walk a few miles. Maybe you'll meet someone interesting." She once again shut her eyes and gulped. I stuck my tongue out, stalked back downwards and went out the door. "Oh and honey?" I shot my head back in the doorframe. "Yup?" She never opened her eyes but moved her hands as she spoke. "I want you to stop by the lab and meet Professor Birch. I know you aren't into pokemon, but he's a friend of your fathers… and I know you don't like him either but…" "Yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah, don't have a cow." With that, I was gone.

Woo I'm so totally thrilled to meet someone 'interesting'.

Sike.


	2. THE PROF and THE HARLEY

**T**he town was totally small. I mean TOTALLY. That's an understatement, too. I mean, tch, there was what- the lab… and the lab… and that was it. Yup.

Dayum was I ever going to have a spiftacular time.

Not.

"HEY GIRL! TALL SKINNY GIRL WITH LONG BLACK HAIR! PSST OVER HERE! HURRY!" A pale, short kid with shiny, slicked back hair who seriously needed a wardrobe-ist or something… I mean nerd was written all over the poor dude… flailed his arms pathetically at me. I stared at him blankly.

"What the fuck."

He started to bite his nails and roll on the floor. I rushed over to him.

What I considered rushing, anyway.

I placed myself next to him and tried to control him or something but he was too damn hyperactive. Giving up, I sat Indian style a few feet away, twirling my hair in defeat… sort of. "Man you really need to see a psychologist or something. Do you have schizo?"

He rose up restlessly and rubbed his eyes. Then suddenly a purple, furry creature flew rapidly over my lap, following a man with sleek brown hair in a ponytail wearing a lengthily white, rubber lab coat. He was sweating menacingly and panting like mad.

Man if only I had some popcorn right now. Talk about entertainment.

"HEYYYYYYLP MEEEEEEEEEEEEE"

The kid cowered in utter disgust and fear. I sat up, brushed off my short black skirt, pulled lightly on my fishnets, and began to trot away.

"No can do. Not my prob. Havta look for mister Professor what's-his-face anyway. Later."

"Professor Birch?" He somehow managed to pant as he continued looking totally lame while prancing around in a circle. I half shouted, half laughed, "yeah, but I bet you wouldn't be able to find him in your situation anyhoo. Buh bye." He leaped over a log and stumbled a little. "THAT'S ME YOU ASS. NOW GO IN MY BAG AND PULL OUT A POKE BALL WOULD YOU SO I CAN FUCKING GO BACK TO MY JOB KTHX."

Uh. Well…

"Damn. That's all you had to say." Grinning slightly, I skipped over to a cargo sling-over-the-shoulder bag and rummaged through it.

"Crap… crap… crappy crap… damnit what's a poke ball fucking look like anyway? Rah…" I kept searching through it, but no poke ball. "HURRY UP DAMNIT." Professor Lame ass snarled. I flinched. "YOU KNOW I CAN CHOOSE TO LEAVE IF I WANT. Sheez." Finally I found a poke ball and squealed unconsciously. "Heck yes! Now how does it open hmm…"

Abruptly the poke ball snapped ajar and an ADORABLE crimson colored bird with golden feathers ruffled on different parts of its' miniature body popped out looking pissed. It stood up and gawked at me.

Finally it spoke without moving its mouth or anything. It had a freaky deep New York accent.

(_Man am I glad to be outta that hell hole. Thanks… I guess._)

"Nuh uh! You're a dude? Whoa."

(_What the hell? Of course I'm a 'dude'… whatdya think dumbass?_)

Aww. It called me a dumbass.

"OH MY GOD YOU ARE FREAKING CUTE! Kay. Like. Um. What am I supposed to do with you."

(_Shit you ain't one of those freaky valley girls are ya…)_?

"Call me that again and you die."

(_Thank Jesus…_)

"HEY LADY! THIS IS NO TIME FOR SMALL TALK! DISTRACT THE POKEMON LIKE I ASKED!" The Professor kept dashing around, nothing new. "Say Please." I sighed, taunting him. "PLEASE MY ASS! AHHHHH!"

That guy is a bitch. Hate him.

"Bleh." I turned to the pokemon. "Okay, birdie, time to…"

(_Aw nuts you mean I havta listen to you?_)

…

(_Okay, but only cuz I owe you, even though I hate that Professor, he's an ass._)

"Amen." We nodded in unison. "Okay. Uh use… something… attack…"

(_Are you serious? You don't know how to control me?_)

"Eh… Nah."

(_Oh snap. Guess I'm going to have to take care of myself here…_)

"You do that."

(_Great._ _Some trainer you are._)

"You know it." Smiling, I hopped towards a bush where the young boy was cowering still.

I know. He sucks.

I kindly patted him on the back and told him if he was a good boy I'd give him some candy. He grinned from ear to ear and began to rock back and forth. I was totally lying through my teeth, but I didn't feel guilty so there.

Now far away from the little pokemon, I watched it scratch up a storm. Eventually the poor hound looking creature skimped away, obviously overwhelmed by the whole shebang, and so did the kid, which was just as good anyhow. He said he had to floss his cat, the weeny. The professor limped over to me, sweat dripping down his face.

Ger-oss.

"Thank-a-th-"

"YOUR VERY WELCOME. Now that I've met you and decided I hated you I think I'll go bye."

"WAIT." He practically shrieked, rasping feverously.

Damnit. I knew I shouldn't have told him I hated him.

I clumsily twirled back towards the prof. "Oui?"

"You're Jim's child aren't you?" Panting he sat on the log and slouched immensely. I shrugged and began to pace kindasortaish. "Maybe. Maybe not. What's it to you?" He heaved a big one and picked up the little bird pokemon that was unsuccessfully trying to escape the professor's clutch. I chuckled trivially and poked it playfully on the nose… CHOMP.

It tried to bite me. That bitch.

"OUCH! FUCK. Retard…" I sat next to the professor, crossed my legs and clicked my teeth. He moaned. "I want you to have this little feller. Thanks to you I'm not dead. Sorry if I was a bit harsh earlier, it's just when…" "You should've stopped at… actually." I scoffed. "Dude, you never should've started. Listen. I'm NOT a pokemon trainer. REPEAT: NOT. I will never be one. Pokemon is beyond lame. Heh. You have the wrong chick man." He raised his eyebrows. "What? Your father, Jim, said that you were VERY… repeat, VERY interested! I don't understand… " I shook my head dramitically. "Me neither. Oh well. Sucks for us. I guess." Both tilting our heads to the side, the professor sat up and I scuffled my feet in the grass. "Well, Denver… that's your name correct?" I waved and nodded. He coughed slightly and continued. "Denver I have to say I'm disappointed in you. I mean, think about it… you could see the world… and so could this old Torchic." He gave a sympathetic smile and squeezed the pokemon. It wasn't too thrilled about that, I'll say. Hey hugs may be amazing but squeezes suck ass. "The poor thing has been cooped up in my lab for many, many years." He tried to give me a look but I ignored it.

Make me feel sorry for you and I'll shoot.

The Torchic finally wiggled its' way out of Professor Birch's hands and waddled over to my legs. It head butted me, but not in a 'tough-guy' way, more in a, 'I'm-sorry-for being-a-dipshit-and-trying-to-bite-you-now-c'mon-man-let's-be-pals' kind of way. I made a half smile and started to feel my insides tingle.

Uh-oh.

This meant it was time to argue with myself. Yippee Skippee.

_It's soo cute… must resist must resist… but it's so cute… but he's trying to make you like your father and he blows… but it's cute… but…_

"BUT! BUTBUTBUTBUTBUT MY ASS SHUT THE FUCK UP! DAMNIT." I screeched. I felt my head go numb and my cheeks turn tomato colored as the both of them looked at me like I was on crack.

Which I am so totally not by the way, thanks.

"UGH ALL RIGHT. All right." Nonchalantly I bended over and picked up my new bud. I gave Professor the eye.

"You are going down for this man."

He just chuckled imperiously and told me we needed to go to the lab. Trailing close behind, I made slitty eyes at my new Torchic.

"Oh by the way, do you want to give your new friend a nickname?" I licked my lips. "A whatta-whatta?" Birch laughed and mentioned me forward. I followed.

(_Are you daft? A nickname. You know. Like if I called you Den instead of Denver or something._)

I rolled my eyes. "I know that, dummy. I'm just not sure what to name you."

(_That's what they all say. Anyways, make it something hot._)

I snorted. "You are such an ass. Hmm… I think I'm going to name you Harley. You know, after the motorcycle, Harley Davidson?" Nothing. I bit my lip. "Okay, you don't know, but those things aren't hot, they're MAD SIZZLIN." He batted his eyelids, unimpressed. I thought it was rad, but I guess he didn't dig the nick.

(_WHAT? I'm not being named no Harley! How about one of those fancy long Japanese names… or OOH how about Flame?_)

Flame? What the hell. That's worse than fucking Bob. I gritted my teeth in annoyance. "Nope. You're Harley. The end." Harley tried to bite me, again. Bitch.

"Listen pal, no biting okay?" I took out the pokeball, my arms were growing weary.

(_Deal. As long as I don't have to go back into that ball._)

"Then you're walking." I dropped Harley with ease and kept going. He at first didn't move, but I knew he'd lift his ass up and follow eventually once we were


End file.
